


get stuffed

by kaci3PO



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 13:01:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaci3PO/pseuds/kaci3PO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"So...are you gonna fucking do something, or am I just going to lay here with my legs in the air all night?"</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	get stuffed

"So...are you gonna fucking do something, or am I just going to lay here with my legs in the air all night?" Michael shoots Gavin his most withering look. It's pretty damn impressive given the circumstances, if he does say so himself. Not a lot of people could pull "withering" off while on their back with both knees pulled to their chest, fingers gripping the backs of their knees to hold them up.

"Oh, get stuffed," Gavin retorts. He rubs the pad of his thumb over Michael's hole and bites his lip.

"That's the goal." Michael sighs, long-suffering, and shifts his hips awkwardly. With every passing minute, he becomes less convinced that this was a good idea. They really were doing just fine before with hands and mouths.

"Don't be a tit," Gavin says. "This was your bloody idea."

"Only because your gag reflex is fucking shit," Michael snaps. "I've been blowing you for weeks and getting jerked off in return."

"Well, what's wrong with handjobs, Michael?" Gavin asks. He sounds painfully sincere.

"Nothing. But if we're doing this, then I'm going to need to fuck something more than your fist every now and then."

Gavin slicks his fingers for the second time and finally presses one of them inside. Michael sighs, drops his head back on the pillow, and stares up at the ceiling. Breathing is suddenly harder than he remembers.

"I'm trying," Gavin whines. "You knew I had a hair trigger when you started shagging me."

Michael rolls his eyes even though he knows Gavin can't see them. "Yeah. And somehow I agreed to date you anyway."

He knows without looking that Gavin is grinning at him like a fucking idiot, so Michael smacks half-heartedly at Gavin's arm in retaliation. Gavin laughs at his efforts and slowly presses a second finger inside.

"Fucking hell, you're tight," Gavin murmurs. "Are you sure I'm going to fit?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Michael snaps. "Just do the thing, like I showed you."

Gavin makes an annoyed-sounding noise, but Michael doesn't care. Wait until he's the one on his back, see how he fucking likes it.

Gavin slowly separates his fingers inside Michael, stretching his hole wider. Michael did way more Googling about anal sex than he'd ever imagined he would in preparation for this, but the reading couldn't possibly have explained how he'd feel right now, how good the slide of Gavin's fingers against his rim would be, how his breath would hitch every time he felt the burn of the stretch. He hooks one of his ankles over Gavin's shoulder and uses it to tug him forward.

Gavin lets out an undignified squawk as he's yanked off balance, but Michael lets go of his knees and puts his hands to better use as he fists one in Gavin's hair and uses the other to guide him forward, fingers splaying along his jawline. Michael brings their mouths together, sharing breath for the moment it takes Gavin to catch on and kiss back.

Michael doesn't know if it's on purpose, but Gavin's fingers speed up inside him, pushing in harder in a staccato rhythm. Bent like this, Gavin's mouth on his, feeling the push-pull of friction inside him, it's only a taste of what's to come and Michael is already so hard that he's dripping.

"Gav," he whispers. "Fuck, Gavin."

"Does it hurt?"

Michael laughs and curls his toes, arching up against Gavin. He can feel how hard Gavin is against his hip and his stomach turns over at the idea of it inside him, opening him up. How soon that's going to happen.

"No," he says. "Fuck, it — it feels really fucking good."

"Yeah?" Gavin asks, sounding a little surprised. "Do you think you're ready?"

"I think I'm going to kill you if you don't fuck me already."

Gavin chokes back a laugh and pets at Michael's hip. " _Michael_ ," he whines. "I don't want to hurt my little Michael."

"I don't want to have to hurt you, either," Michael replies. If he sounds absurdly fond, it's totally against his will. "So maybe put your fucking dick in me already."

Gavin meets his eyes head-on and the two of them stare at each other for half a moment before they both start laughing, loud and ridiculous.

Their mouths find each other again, kissing soft and sweet and still hiccuping small laughs into each other's mouths. Gavin fumbles the condom and their laughter takes a turn for the awkward and nervous, but then suddenly everything is happening at once and Michael doesn't have time to be embarrassed or awkward because Gavin's cock is right there, pressing into him bit by bit, and if he'd thought Gavin's fingers sliding against him felt good, it was only because he hadn't yet felt this in comparison. His laughter turns to a moan and he fumbles for Gavin's arm, needing to feel Gavin's skin, needing a reminder that the world hasn't actually narrowed down to where their hips press together.

Gavin's breath is shaky as he bottoms out, his forehead pressed to Michael's and his eyes closed. Michael touches them one by one, lets his fingertips trail over Gavin's lashes, and feels his own breath rattle in his chest.

"Shite," Gavin says finally. "Utter bolloxing wankshite."

It is only for the sake of what he is pretty sure is Gavin's ability to function that Michael musters up the strength to reply, "You get more British when you're turned on, did you know that?"

"'m always British," Gavin mutters. "Sir Ian McKellan and God Save the Queen and all that."

"You _would_ go for McKellan," Michael snorts.

Gavin finally opens his eyes and Michael's breath hitches in his chest. Banter, he knows what to do with, even now, but he has nothing for an earnestly emotional Gavin Free. There's nowhere to even begin with that.

The corner of Gavin's mouth twitches with what they both know he won't say, and then he rocks his hips against Michael's. The moan that falls out of his parted lips is wanton and Michael doesn't stop to question it before he's got a hand wrapped around his dick, pulling in time with Gavin's shaky rhythm.

It was always going to be short and awkward, like all first times, but Michael comes embarrassingly fast from the feel of Gavin's cock pressing against his prostate and his own right hand.

"Fucking hell," Gavin says softly. "Look at you."

Michael would glare at him if he weren't so blissed out at the moment, so he settles for a half-hearted flash of his middle finger.

"You're lovely," Gavin tells him sincerely. "We need to actually get good at this immediately."

"Already pretty great," Michael mutters, more hoarse than he'd like to admit.

Gavin grins at him and carefully rolls his hips forward, testing to see if Michael's oversensitive. He is, but each rock of Gavin's hips is a little spark up his spine to remind him of how good his orgasm felt. He can handle a little overstimulation.

"Come on, Gav," he says. "You should be lovely, too."

The laugh that tries to make its way out of Gavin's throat is bitten-off and choked, half-moan and half nothing but joy. It's absurd how often Michael hears that noise aimed at him.

Gavin's orgasm is sudden and hard, leaving his arms trembling as he tries and fails to hold himself up. He collapses like an extremely gangly rock on Michael's chest and Michael immediately regrets it when he rolls Gavin off him onto his side. He feels empty and achy now that he's left stretched open with nothing inside and he resists the urge to slip two fingers between his legs to prod at his hole. Maybe later, when he's taking a shower to wash all the come and lube off himself, he'll allow himself to try, but for now he's got a half-comatose Gavin staring at him blearily and looking like he's in desperate need of validation.

"You okay?" Gavin asks, and Michael wants to laugh because Gavin is definitely in worse shape than he is.

"No," Michael replies. "Your cock is so special and unique that I'll never be okay again, Gavin." The sarcasm is admittedly a little thick, but Gavin's so out of it that he could probably use the extra nudge. 

"Piss off," Gavin mutters. "I was actually asking."

Michael shrugs. "I'm fine." He pauses. "I'm good. I'm toppy tippers, Gav."

"Yeah?"

Gavin's smile is slow and sleepy and Michael can't stop himself from sucking Gavin's bottom lip between his teeth. When he pulls back, Gavin is beaming at him and Michael can't stop himself from dopily grinning back.

"I'm toppy tippers, too, Michael," Gavin says. "Are you going to be teddy Mogar and let me cuddle you as I go to sleep?"

"Sure, Gavvers. Mogar loves to cuddle when he's not out bathing in the blood of the damned."

"Mmm," Gavin says, and buries his face against the only clean patch of Michael's chest. He's asleep before Michael has a chance to get comfortable.

Michael sighs, runs his hands through Gavin's hair, and decides to say fuck it. He'll be absolutely filthy when he wakes up but so will Gavin, and that's just fine with him.


End file.
